An Ear to Listen
by Wicked Byte
Summary: Sometimes all one needs is a listening ear. David Rossi is no exception. OC


**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.**

**Rated: T **

* * *

Misheru Tanaka, or Michelle as most of her coworkers called her, was heading towards the break room to make herself a cup of tea. She had been studying and assessing the potential threat of a group calling themselves "Sentry" for most of last night and early that day. They had recently been receiving messages from an Arabic unit, which she hadn't been able to fully track down. The signal was jumping around and had been routed through numerous other countries, which had caused much frustration on her part. She had narrowed their location down to either Libya or Egypt.

There had finally been enough of a lull in their communications that she had been able to pass over the reigns to another analyst. She had her phone in her pocket and her pager on just in case they picked up while she was away from her station and needed her assistance.

It was nearing 6:24 AM, according to her watch, which meant she had been up for at least 32 hours straight. She tucked her hands into her pockets and turned the corner into the room, feeling dead on her feet. She headed straight towards the kettle which she hoped had hot water and, luckily, it did.

She grabbed a tea packet and ripped it open, setting it in the cup before pouring in the hot water. Michelle closed her eyes and let out a small sigh. Staring at the computer screens for so long had given her a slight headache. Not to mention the fact that she had to translate everything that "Sentry" was communicating back into English for her report.

She left the tea bag in the cup, allowing it to steep, and took a seat. Michelle stared down into the cup, glasses slowly sliding down her nose. She didn't know how long she sat there until the table shifted and someone sat down across from her. Startled by the movement she nearly spilled the tea. She steadied her cup and looked to see who had joined her.

"Hello," she greeted politely, tone wearied.

"Hey," The older man greeted as he looked her up and down with a smile, though it looked half-hearted.

Michelle took a small sip of her tea, nose crinkling a little as she realized she had left the tea bag in for far too long. Shrugging it off and much too tired to really care, she drank a bit more. She glanced up at him and let her eyes linger, silently wondering why he had chosen to sit with her when there were other empty tables. There was a mug of coffee in his hand, but the man didn't seem to be drinking it.

'Perhaps he's lonely,' she mused. She pondered this thought for a moment before hesitantly introducing herself. "Michelle Tanaka," she offered her name, english still lightly accented.

His gaze snapped back to her and seemed to focus on her face, "David Rossi."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Rossi." They fell back into silence. His eyes seemed to glaze over as though her were reliving a memory and his mouth curved downwards. The fierce grimace twisted his face. Michelle's heart tightened.

"May I ask what's wrong?" she delicately questioned.

"Bad case," he muttered.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Mr. Rossi's eyes flicked back into focus. He stared at her as though he were judging her worthiness. She looked back into his eyes and thought that he was, perhaps, a profiler. He certainly made her feel as though he was assessing every move made, every breath taken. The man let out a sigh and nodded.

"Usually, cases don't get to me this badly, but this one..." He trailed off for a moment. "This one reminded me of one of my first cases. Too late, again."

"I know my words won't offer much comfort, this I know from experience, but I am sorry."

Rossi quirked a brow, "From experience?"

"I track potential terrorist threats," Michelle said simply. "I am supposed to assess their threat level and then suggest what actions should be taken. An arabic unit had been discovered and it was my first solo assessment. I made the wrong one. I mistranslated a single word. Eight people died."

He stayed quiet, eyes locked on her face.

Michelle gave him a slightly pained smile. "With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts," she quoted. "Eleanor Roosevelt."

"I like that quote." He brought the mug to his lips and studied Michelle. She was pretty young, he noted. Maybe even younger than Reid, though he wasn't completely sure. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"I'm 28," she answered. "And you?"

"Almost double your age," he replied wryly.

"Hontou ni desu ka?"

He blinked, "Pardon?"

Her face turned a light pink, "I was surprised. Sorry. You don't look as though you are."

"Thank you," Rossi shot her a crooked grin.

The young woman ducked her head. "You're welcome," she replied softly. She took another sip of tea and his lips twitched when he saw her nose wrinkle.

He glanced at the clock, "My team should be coming in soon."

"Ah," she looked at her watch, eyes widening. It had been almost thirty minutes. She quickly stood. "I should go back to my station. It was nice to meet you, Mr Rossi." Michelle executed a small bow, dipping her head respectfully.

"Nice meeting you too, Michelle." She gave him one last kind smile and left the break room. Rossi leaned back in his chair. He took a gulp of lukewarm coffee then set down his mug.

"With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts," he murmured. He stood up and meandered over to the desks. As he watched the team come in he could feel the weight of the case being lifted off of him.


End file.
